


Let Me Fill Your Head With Pretty Words

by nocturnejellyfish



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Biting, Clothed Sex, Dirty Talk, Dry Humping, Fluff, Implied Jaskier/original character, Jaskier likes cooking, M/M, Porn With Plot, Praise Kink, Public Hand Jobs, Scent Kink, Witchers can blush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:13:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24239335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nocturnejellyfish/pseuds/nocturnejellyfish
Summary: Jaskier drags his traveling companion, Geralt of Rivia to yet another banquet. Geralt would rather be doing literally anything else, even slay a selkiemore, than to sit and socialize with nobles. Jaskier disappears in the middle of the banquet and their evening takes a turn for the unexpected.“Hm. And what you Geralt?” His voice was low and he leaned closer to Geralt. “Are you a gentleman?”A shiver passed through Geralt. He moved closer to Jaskier. “No. But my lovers leave satisfied.”“Is that right?” Jaskier licked his lips.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion/Original Character(s)
Comments: 25
Kudos: 524





	Let Me Fill Your Head With Pretty Words

**Author's Note:**

> Recommended song: [Dinner and Diatribes](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Iq5gesj6kmw)

If there was one thing Geralt hated more than nobility it was banquets. He rolled his shoulders back, unnerved by the absence of leather and twin weight of metal. Jaskier had talked him into wearing proper court attire, blessedly black this time. The outfit would be as useful in a fight as Jaskier was at keeping it in his pants. 

Not that they were here for a contract. Jaskier had been invited and dragged Geralt along with promises of food and flowing wine. The wine was certainly flowing into his cup. But Geralt kept his defenses up nonetheless. With humans one never knew when a fight would break out. 

Being surrounded by humanity set his teeth on edge. 

The smell of too many humans in an enclosed space burned his nose. Body odors, perfume, and scented oils wafted off the lot of them. The heavy smell of roasted meat and spices hung in the air. There was also the cloying scent of alcohol as drunkards spilled beer and wine as they staggered about the hall. 

Then there was the noise. The feet of dancers in the middle of the hall created a steady tap, tap, tap. Chairs screeching across stone and bouts of laughter lent high notes to the din. The sound of chewing, belching, dozens of conversations, drinking, and off key singing created a discordant ensemble. A band of musicians near the high table provided an instrumental accompaniment. The cacophony echoed through the hall until it reached a crescendo.

A headache was forming in his temples. Geralt downed his wine. He scanned the room and followed a flash of purple silk. The owner of the silk flitted from group to group, an easy smile on his face. His mouth never seemed to stop moving and his hand, not holding a wine goblet, gestured expansively. He caught Geralt’s eye and his smile transformed into something warm. An answering smile flickered to life on Geralt’s face.

Jaskier turned his attention back to his companion. He began talking animatedly once more, almost spilling his wine. Geralt continued scanning the hall. 

The crowd blocked the path towards the obvious exits. If he wanted to leave he would have to wade between bodies. If the situation turned sour, he may have to fight through people in order to get Jaskier and himself to safety. He could do it but the odds of harming innocents was high. 

Unease roiled under Geralt’s skin. The whole of humanity seemed to be closing in on all sides. He needed to fight someone. Needed air. Needed - wine. He strode towards a servant bearing a tray of wine. 

“Having fun?” A familiar voice asked him. 

Geralt grunted. 

“Oh, that’s your irritated tone. I don’t blame you, the bard they hired is atrocious. The cad has been wailing off key all evening.” 

“Here comes company,” Geralt nodded to a trio of lordlings strolling towards them. They resembled young peacocks flaunting their tail feathers. 

“Greetings,” The blond lordling gave them a bored smile. “I heard a rumor that you are the famous bard Jaskier?” 

“Indeed my lords.” Jaskier did an elaborate half bow. “And this is my traveling companion, Geralt.” 

“The Geralt of Rivia? The White Wolf?” The dark haired lordling asked in surprise. Geralt inclined his head. The three lordlings looked at him like one does a caged bear. 

“Is it true you killed all those elves at the edge of the world?” The third lordling, with an unfortunate receding hairline asked, keeping his distance from the Witcher. Geralt wanted to snarl. 

“Yes -” 

“No,” Geralt quickly cut off Jaskier. “The elves kicked our asses and destroyed his lute. And then they let us go.” Geralt ignored the irritated look Jaskier shot at him. Fuck, nobility and their endless questions. 

“That’s a rather dull story,” the blond lordling drawled. The three of them looked put out by the anti-climatic story. Good. Lords too interested in Geralt never ended well for him. He placed his hand on Jaskier’s arm and shot him a meaningful look. 

“Honest stories don’t make for good music. If you would excuse us, Lords, the famous Jaskier is in search of more dull stories to turn into art.” 

The lordlings huffed at Geralt’s brusqueness but allowed the pair to walk away. 

“Touchy,” Jaskier muttered. They walked in step to an empty table in the corner. "Must you always endeavor to ruin my reputation?" 

"Only when it concerns mine." His lips twitched up at Jaskier's pout. 

"I swear on Melitele's verdant eye, I will drag you kicking and screaming to good standing. Maybe I should write a ballad about another of your dull stories and spruce it up a bit." He waved his hand expansively. "How about the tale of the White Wolf being seduced by the soft tits of a bruxa."

"I would never let myself be seduced by a bruxa." 

"Yes, I know. But I have to turn your dreadfully dull stories into art somehow. You know, if you're so concerned by my artistic integrity, we could go find a bruxa to seduce you." 

Geralt frowned. "Why would I -" 

A pair of servants interrupts them. One girl busies herself with serving them roasted meat and assortment of other food. The other girl tops off Jaskier’s goblet and whispers something into his ear. 

"Hold that thought about the bruxa, Geralt. I have some business to attend to." Jaskier followed the serving girl away from the table. 

"Don't leave without me," Jaskier called back over his shoulder. 

What in the spheres was Jaskier doing? He sighed and turned his attention to the food. Without Jaskier providing a distraction, his unease crept back up. He flagged down a servant and took the entire pitcher of wine off their hands. 

After a considerable amount of wine and rich food, Geralt finally relaxed into a warm buzz. His irritation, caused by his current environment, receded to tolerable levels. He no longer felt the need to fight someone. Mostly. 

He rolled his head to the right. His bard was still missing. How long was he supposed to wait? Perhaps Geralt should investigate whatever trouble Jaskier was entangled in. 

Before he could act on that thought, Geralt heard familiar footsteps behind him. He turned to see Jaskier walking back to their table. His eyes were bright from wine and he had a wide grin. However, he was walking with a strange, shuffling gait. 

Had he been injured? Geralt took in his full form. Jaskier’s hair was disheveled as though he had been running his fingers through it. His lips were pink and swollen. Dust coated the knees of his silk trousers. And - 

Oh. 

_Oh._

There was a prominent bulge in Jaskier’s trousers. 

Why, in Melitele’s name, was the fool walking around in that state? 

Jaskier closed the distance and sat next to Geralt. This close Geralt couldn’t help but smell him. He breathed in the familiar scent of Jaskier’s sandalwood perfume and orange blossom hair oil. A blend of cooking grease, garlic, and cinnamon clung to his clothes. 

“Miss me?” Jaskier asked, cheekily. 

Geralt zeroed in on his mouth. The scent of salt and a slight tang coated Jaskier’s tongue and swollen lips. 

Jaskier’s “business” was clearly a tryst with some man. Who had caught Jaskier’s eye tonight? Gods forbid it was one of the annoying lordlings from earlier. Not that it mattered, of course. From Jaskier’s appearance it was clear that his tryst hadn’t taken place in a bed. Had Jaskier kneeled for some lord in a corridor just outside of the banquet hall? 

Had it been close enough that Geralt would’ve been able to hear Jaskier’s moans, if not for the revelry? 

So close that Geralt could’ve smelled them? 

“Geralt?” Jaskier’s concerned voice broke through Geralt’s reverie. “Are you okay?” 

Melitele’s left tit. Geralt was drunker than he thought if he was contemplating Jaskier’s love life. He scrambled for something to say. 

“Where were you?” Geralt asked and wanted to slap himself. Obviously Jaskier had just come from having his face fucked. What an incredibly stupid question. 

“Ah!” Jaskier perked up again and produced a sheet of parchment. “I was consulting with the Master Cook and convinced him to part with some secrets.” 

Clearly secrets were not all the Master Cook had been convinced to part with. Jaskier passed him the parchment. It did appear to be a recipe with notes scribbled in the margins. Hm. 

Jaskier’s latest obsession was learning how to cook. He had dramatically claimed that he rather die by drowners than eat one more unseasoned hare. After that he acquired a new notebook. It became filled with notes, recipes, and even drawings of edible plants. He managed to charm cooks, tavern owners, wives, and grannies, on this side of the Yaruga, out of long-held family recipes. 

Geralt hadn’t previously considered how Jaskier was charming them. 

“Do all your consultations end with you eating the Cook’s sausage?” He asked, straight faced. 

“I did sample some fantastic dishes in the kitchen. But no sausage...” Jaskier touched his lips self consciously. Geralt’s eyes helplessly followed the motion.“Was that another of your double entendres?” 

Geralt shrugged his shoulder.

“I’ll have you know I don’t swallow sausage every time I get cooking advice. This cook happened to have a very nice...sausage.” Jaskier straightened his doublet before looking at Geralt with a curious expression. Geralt was still transfixed by Jaskier’s lips.

“Do your Witchery senses really tell you I’ve been sucking cock?” He drew out the last two words.

It was hardly fair how enticing he made the phrase sound. 

Geralt made an affirmative noise and grasped for his goblet. For lack of anything better to do he took a sip. It didn’t help. The wine had washed away his impulse control. Geralt, regrettably, opened his mouth again. 

“My Witcher senses also tell me your Cook left you wanting.” Geralt canted his head towards Jaskier’s tented trousers. Jaskier shifted in his seat under Geralt’s scrutiny. 

“It is less than ideal,” Jaskier said slowly, spreading his legs. He gave Geralt a heated look. Geralt found he couldn’t look away. 

“If he were a gentleman he wouldn’t have left you unattended.” 

“Hm. And what you Geralt?” His voice was low and he leaned closer to Geralt. “Are you a gentleman?” 

A shiver passed through Geralt. He moved closer to Jaskier. “No. But my lovers leave satisfied.” 

“Is that right?” Jaskier licked his lips. 

Time seemed to stretch out. Geralt could taste Jaskier’s arousal. His own cock was half hard in his trousers. It would’ve been so easy to close the distance and kiss him. 

A clatter broke their trance. 

A serving girl, oblivious to the tension between the two men, replaced their empty plates with dessert. A delicate cake topped with cream and cherries. Geralt could feel a blush warming his cheeks. What the fuck had that had been. He had almost - Fuck. He needed to get a grip. 

He looked at Jaskier out of the corner of his eye. The bard took a bite of cake and slowly licked the cream off his spoon while staring at Geralt. Without taking his eyes off Geralt, Jaskier moved Geralt’s hand to Jaskier’s thigh. His thigh was firm and warm beneath his palm. His fingers were almost close enough to brush Jaskier’s cock. 

Geralt peered around the hall but no one was paying attention to their corner. Jaskier pushed the cake away and moved closer to Geralt’s side. He could feel Jaskier’s breath against his ear. His hand still rested on the warm thigh. 

“Show me what you would do if I was your lover,” Jaskier whispered into his ear. He moved Geralt’s hand closer still. Geralt could’ve pulled back and pretended none of this happened. Just two friends that had a bit too much to drink. Something to laugh about later.

He could’ve. With a swallow, he allowed his fingertips to brush the cock trapped in fabric. Jaskier sucked in a breath. 

Geralt’s fingertips trailed up the long length and back down again. 

“No need to be shy, Witcher. I don’t bite. Unless you want me to,” Jaskier teased. 

“Hmm.” 

“Are you into that?” He asked, amused. 

Instead of answering, Geralt cupped his hand around Jaskier’s cock and slowly stroked it. Jaskier opened his legs wider in invitation. 

“Perhaps if you’re good, we can explore that later.” He eyed Geralt as though he’d devour him here and now. 

A spark moved down Geralt’s spine. Fuck, he wanted to be good. He palmed Jaskier’s balls through the silk. Jaskier breath hitched at the sensation. Geralt’s cock twitched in interest at the sound. 

“I’ve wanted your hands on me for so long. Fuck, you’re better at this than I thought you would be.” 

“You’ve thought about this?” Geralt asked. Jaskier could have his pick of lovers, and he thought about Geralt? 

“Well, maybe not this specifically. But I’ve thought about you almost constantly.” Jaskier’s voice dropped an octave. “This banquet has been so dull. I was daydreaming about bending you over when one of these tables, right where everyone can see you. And fucking your glorious ass. Or maybe I’d spread your cheeks and eat you out for hours. I could make it so good for you, darling.” 

Geralt couldn’t remember how to breathe. 

Jaskier cocked his head at Geralt’s expression. 

“I’ve never seen your eyes do that before.” 

Shit, his pupils were blown out. He turned his face away but a hand on his cheek stopped him. 

“It’s a good look on you, dear.” Jaskier stroked his thumb across Geralt’s cheek and onto his lower lip. Geralt enclosed the thumb in his mouth and dragged his teeth over the pad. Jaskier swallowed thickly. His eyes locked on Geralt’s mouth. 

Once again, Geralt was struck by the desire to kiss him. If they weren’t in public he might’ve given into it. As it was, he plucked at the buttons on Jaskier’s trousers. 

“That’s it, darling.” Jaskier encouraged, pulling his thumb out of Geralt’s mouth. 

Geralt managed to free Jaskier’s cock from his trousers. It was warm, heavy weight in his hand. He paused to admire the satisfying girth and flushed color. He ran his thumb through the pre-cum gathering on the head. Jaskier made a guttural noise. 

“Fuck, you’re doing so good for me.” Geralt coated Jaskier’s cock with pre-cum. “If someone looked over right now, what would they think? The big, bad White Wolf seducing an innocent bard?” 

“You? Innocent?” Geralt snorted. 

“Mmm. The things I want to do to you are definitely not innocent.” Jaskier’s hips jerked up in Geralt’s grasp. He tightened his grip, strokes long and sure. “But you’re not so innocent yourself, dear wolf.” 

“Hm?”

“I’ve seen the things you do when you think no one’s watching.” 

Goosebumps broke out on Geralt’s arms. 

“What things, bard?” 

“I’ve watched you pleasuring yourself on the other side of camp when you thought I’d fallen asleep. Seen your face in silent throes of passion. I wanted to offer a hand, or mouth, but wasn’t sure how it would be received. Tell me Geralt, would you’ve wanted me to kneel between your legs and take your cock in my mouth? Let you cum all over my pretty face?” 

“Fuck,” Geralt said, stroking Jaskier in earnest. The image of Jaskier sucking him off to the backdrop of stars is seared into his mind. His cum marking Jaskier’s face. Jaskier smelling of nothing but Geralt for the rest of the night. Fuck. 

“Just like that, darling. Fuck. Just like that.” Jaskied moaned, quietly. His thrusted his cock up into Geralt’s grip. 

Jaskier’s dirty talk derailed into panted encouragements. Geralt continued his ministrations and fondled Jaskier’s balls in his other hand. Suddenly, Jaskier’s hand clamped onto Geralt’s shoulder and he bit his fist to silence himself. He shuddered through his orgasm, painting Geralt’s hand white. 

He let go of Geralt’s shoulder and bonelessly fell back into his chair. Jaskier smiled at Geralt warmly. Geralt busied himself with cleaning them up with a napkin. His own trousers tented uncomfortably. Jaskier tucked himself back into his trousers and refastened them. 

“Well darling, what do you say we get out of here and I can take care of your little problem?” 

“It’s not _little_.” 

Jaskier raised an eyebrow, amused. “Even better.” 

Jaskier pulled Geralt to his feet and led him to a servant’s exit. Geralt kept ahold of Jaskier’s hands and threaded their fingers together. He felt Jaskier give his hand a gentle squeeze. The sounds of the banquet became muffled as Jaskier led them through the maze of the servant corridors. 

Without warning, Jaskier came to a stop. They were standing in a fairly secluded corridor half shroud in shadow. He pressed Geralt against the wall and took a step back. The chill of the stone bled through the fabric of Geralt’s shirt. However, the way Jaskier was undressing him with his eyes was enough to warm his blood. 

“Gods, you’re absolutely gorgeous,” Jaskier reverently said. 

“Did you bring me here just to ogle me, Jaskier?” He teased. 

“So impatient.” Jaskier chided but finally closed the gap between their bodies. 

He carded his hands through Geralt’s hair and tugged his head closer. Geralt’s world narrowed to the press of lips. The tease of Jaskier’s tongue. The taste of cake and fresh cream and Jaskier. Jaskier. Jaskier. 

Geralt wrapped his hands around Jaskier’s waist, pulling him closer. He impatiently pushed aside the hem of Jaskier’s shirt, settling his hands on bare skin. He felt Jaskier shiver as his hands slid up his back. 

Geralt kissed him with a hungry ferocity. He wanted the Cook to be a distant memory. The feeling of Geralt’s mouth to be imprinted in Jaskier’s memory. Jaskier matched his pace, kissing Geralt deeply. The way he used his tongue made the heat rise in Geralt. 

Jaskier whimpered as Geralt worked Jaskier’s bottom lip between his teeth. His hips jerked at the sound. Jaskier pulled back to smirk at Geralt. He slotted his thigh between Geralt’s legs. Geralt’s breath hitched as Jaskier mouthed along the shell of his ear. 

“Do you think you could get off like this?” Jaskier panted. “Just from rutting against my thigh?” 

Geralt rolled his hips. The drag of firm muscle beneath his cock was an enjoyable sensation. He let out a groan, as he repeated the motion. 

“That’s it, gorgeous.” Jaskier grabbed a handful of Geralt’s ass and pulled their bodies closer. Geralt steadily thrusted against Jaskier’s thigh. The friction from his clothing and the line of Jaskier’s leg driving him mad.

“Doing so good for me,” He said. He nipped at the skin below Geralt’s ear. Geralt whined and let his head fall back. Jaskier slowly made his way down Geralt’s neck. He sucked a trail of purpling hickies down the expanse of pale flesh. He shoved Geralt’s shirt collar out of his way and sunk his teeth into Geralt’s shoulder. 

“Fuck.” Geralt grunted, hips stuttering. Jaskier soothed the bite with his tongue. He looked up at Geralt and smiled wickedly.

“Biting really does it for you doesn’t it, gorgeous?” 

“Kiss me,” Geralt growled. 

Jaskier chuckled but obliged. He kissed Geralt until he was breathless. His hips rocked faster against the curve of Jaskier’s thigh. He dug his fingers into Jaskier’s waist. Kissed him until Geralt couldn’t do much more but pant against Jaskier’s mouth. 

“That’s it,” Jaskier encouraged. “You’re breathtaking like this. Cum for me, Geralt.” 

Geralt’s orgasm came to a head. He stilled as pleasure suffused him, the world’s edges softened. His cock pulsed within his braies. 

Jaskier removed his thigh from between Geralt’s legs. He pulled Geralt away from the wall and into his arms. He held Geralt as he floated down into the afterglow. Geralt caught his mouth in a lazy kiss. 

“Fuck, Geralt. That was one of the most attractive things I’ve ever seen. And I’ve seen a lot.” 

“Mmm.” 

“Post-coital is a good look on you, dear.” Jaskier chuckled as Geralt nuzzled against his neck. 

His good mood was only ruined by the wet patch in his braies. His nose wrinkled in distaste. 

“How about we head to our room and order a bath?” Geralt asked. 

“You read my mind.” 

The two men walked back to their shared quarters. The one in purple silk talked the whole way and even broke out into song. His companion, dressed in all black, listened with a fond but exasperated expression.

Banquets weren’t too bad with the right company after all. 

**Author's Note:**

> Well folks this is my first published smut, please be kind. If you'd like to join me in yelling about the Witcher, you can find me on Tumblr at [queerfantasycharacter](https://queerfantasycharacter.tumblr.com/)


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